Feast
by labellerien
Summary: An office fling lands Draco and Hermione in some hot water, with Draco getting the short end of the stick.


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe and am making no money from this work.

**AN:** This is the first chapter of a three-part (possibly four-part) fic. It's 75% complete, but I know where I want it to go so this should be updated relatively quickly.

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"I'm telling you, Malfoy, there's nothing I can do."

"Like hell there's not, you swot!"

She crossed her arms, and he could practically feel the daggers her look shot at him.

"I'm sorry you've been hurt on our last eight cases, I really am-"

"Then stop sending me on bloody suicide missions!" he yelled.

"-but it isn't my decision which jobs you get," she continued, pretending she hadn't heard him. "It's over my head."

He growled and pulled at his hair. "Potter is your superior! I'm not some brainless Gryffindor. It would be easy for you to convince him to cut me some slack."

"Maybe I don't think you deserve any," she shot back.

He dropped into the seat in front of her desk. "I've been in this department for nearly six years. I think I've proven myself in every sense of the word."

Hermione fiddled with the quill on her desk. "Just because you've wormed your way into my good graces-"

"Fucked my way, more like it."

"-doesn't mean Harry feels the same. I can talk until I'm blue in the face about what an upstanding Hufflepuff you've become and it wouldn't make any difference. He's holding a grudge. It's childish and stupid, and I never would have expected it of him, but that's how it is."

He reached over and stopped her from twirling the quill. He stayed silent and dropped his hands in his lap. He heard her come to lean on the edge of her desk. Looking up, he saw her knuckles were white against the oak.

"Hermione-"

"Don't 'Hermione' me. We're at work."

He smirked. She didn't like it when they got too familiar on the job. He pushed his foot out to wedge between her modest pumps and glanced up. Her eyes were pointed at the ceiling, a patronizing look on her face as she snapped her legs back. Her lips pursed.

"I'm close to dying on a weekly basis and you won't even allow a tiny touch of my foot to yours. What a pity."

"No," she said with a sigh. "I just know where it'll lead, and that's against office protocol."

"Such a goody-goody."

"I'm already occasionally sleeping with a Slytherin. That breaks all the Gryffindor rules, don't you think?"

He stared at her, his body lax in the chair. His eyes lowered as he ran a finger across his lips. She swallowed loudly.

"It won't work. I know what you're trying to do."

He lifted an eyebrow and a corner of his mouth. They stared at one another. Hermione rolled her eyes and began unbuttoning her shirt. He plastered a lop-sided grin on his face in victory.

"I don't know what you're smiling about," she said. "The clothes stay on just in case."

"Granger," he laughed, coming to stand against her, "I've been trying to get you to shag at work for weeks. I'll take what I can get."

He roughly twisted her around so that her back was pressed tightly to his chest. He slid his hand down her neck to her torso, stopping to squeeze a breast before dipping and into her skirt. She sharply took in air as his middle finger slicked its way across her clit, jumping at the contact, and heard Draco chuckle slightly behind her. She was wetter than he had expected for all her previous protesting.

"Looks like someone is intrigued by office sex after all," he whispered. She answered by pushing her bum against his erection and grinding in a circle.

He deftly plunged two fingers inside her, letting his thumb trace circles around her throbbing nub. The curling of his fingers in her pussy made Hermione groan and her head fall forward. He pulled his fingers out, now well-lubricated, and held them up for her to taste. Hermione's tongue ran out to lick herself clean from Draco's fingers, and she tilted her head back to kissed him roughly.

"I can't be prim and proper all the time." Her voice was strained. "Fuck me, Malfoy."

Draco was hard to the point of pain and reached down to unzip his slacks. Bracing himself against Hermione's desk, he plunged his cock deep inside her pulsing walls. He pumped in and out, bringing her closer to orgasm with each thrust. He was filling her to the hilt, and their bodies rocked forward and backward, crashing into one another. Hermione was calling out his name, his first name. Draco was immensely satisfied at this and delved into her even deeper than he thought possible.

Hermione threw herself back at Draco with all her might, her pussy quaking. She felt him spilling into her and Draco slackened his pace to shorter and harder thrusts. She was suddenly overcome with intense pleasure from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. Draco pressed his fingers to her clit, and Hermione let her body ride the waves of their orgasms.

"Oh my!"

They snapped their heads to the door of Hermione's office. Laura Madley, Hermione's secretary, stood red-faced in the doorway, one hand holding a file and the other clasped to her mouth.

"Bloody fucking hell," Draco swore.


End file.
